


You're a God and I Am... Not

by gaygreekgladiator (ama)



Series: Your Body is a Temple [4]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Body Modification, First Dates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/gaygreekgladiator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auctus is a health nut/organic smoothie small business owner/tai chi instructor. Duro pretty much lives off of Subway (which he argues is a healthy option) and like those $1 frozen mac-and-cheese meals from michelinas and randomly gets various parts of his body pierced b/c it was a Tuesday and he was bored. Naturally, they're perfect for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a God and I Am... Not

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rivlee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/gifts).



> A YEAR and three months after [the initial conception](http://antiquecompass.tumblr.com/post/31382616729/gaygreekgladiator-antiquecompass), the Organic AU is finally complete. Unbetad, so there are mistakes and they will be fixed at a later date. Shannon, thanks for being so patient and I hope this lives up to the long-delayed expectations. Happy new year, bb. <3

Duro had always known that Agron was, to some extent, a complete and total wuss. It was a fact that he always kept to himself, and only exploited in emergencies; he had the horrible suspicion that, if the privilege was abused, Agron would eventually wise up. So it amused him to no end (and quite frankly made him a bit jealous) once Nasir waltzed into their lives, discovered Agron’s weakness, and proceeded to exploit it constantly, with the delight that only someone used to _not_ getting his way can have.

“I want this for dinner tomorrow, okay?” Nasir said one afternoon as he entered the apartment, wearing form-fitting black sweatpants and with his hair pulled back in a ponytail. Agron was too busy drooling to protest, and Nasir rewarded him with a quick kiss.

“Yeah, sure,” Agron said numbly, glancing at the card his boyfriend handed him. He frowned as he scanned the list of ingredients. “There is some weird shit in here… let me go see what we have.”

He got up and walked over to the kitchen as Nasir greeted Duro. Duro waved at him cheerfully and continued to flip channels on the TV. Duro liked hanging out at their apartment; it was closer to work, had more food, and they had cable. It was a good life.

“Wait, why does this say vegetarian?”

“Because the guy who gave it to me doesn’t eat meat.”

Duro paused the TV and situated his body so he had the ideal angle from which to watch Agron make a fool of himself. It was his favorite hobby, and Agron didn’t disappoint; his eyebrows flew up.

“A _guy_ was giving you recipes? What _guy_?”

“My tai chi instructor. From that class Chadara roped me into.”

He flopped down on the couch beside Duro and winked. Duro grinned. Agron eyed him suspiciously, but from that angle he couldn’t see Nasir’s face, and he made a visible effort to tone down his roaring jealousy. Agron was getting better about the whole anger issues thing, especially after that almost-assault-charge incident, but apparently this was the first time that he had realized that other guys could appreciate the sight of his boyfriend in yoga pants. Duro… well, he would never admit it in a million years, but he had noticed, too.

“Is this, like, part of the class?” Agron said loftily, opening cabinets. “Like, healthy shit that will make you more flexible or stronger or something?”

“No, he was just flirting with me.”

Duro roared with laughter and Agron hit his head on the cabinet door.

“ _What_?”

“He was hitting on me. He was very polite about it. Gave me the recipe, I said something about not being able to cook, and he offered to make it for me some time—”

“What the _hell_ —”

“—to which I said ‘I was going to see if my boyfriend could probably make it but if he screws it up I’ll definitely come to you.’”

Agron looked placated. Duro had to fix that.

“That sounds like a sexual innuendo,” he piped up helpfully. Nasir hit him in the arm, hard, and Duro stuck his tongue out. Sometimes he kind of forgot that Nasir wasn’t _really_ his brother; he usually remembered once Agron and Nasir started sucking face in public, but other than that it was kind of nice to forget.

“It was _not_ a sexual innuendo and he did _not_ interpret it as one,” Nasir said, rolling his eyes.

“You sure?” Agron demanded.

“I’m sure. He looked very disappointed and then he just laughed awkwardly, said good bye, and walked away. I felt kind of bad, you know? He’s nice. He could use a boyfriend.”

“So could I,” Duro said with a sigh, turning back to the TV. “Is he hot?”

“Not really," Nasir shrugged.

Duro knew without having to look that Agron was grinning as he turned around and started looking through cabinets. Silently, Nasir grabbed a fistful of Duro's shirt and mouthed “Fuck yes.”

“Too bad,” Duro replied, stifling his laughter. “I could've taken him off your hands.”

“He was never _in_ Nasir's hands!” Agron said indignantly from the kitchen. Nasir and Duro looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Nah, I don't really think you're his type, anyway,” Nasir shrugged.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Is that new?” Nasir asked, pointing to Duro's ear.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he said happily, one hand flying to hover by his tragus piercing. “Looks awesome, doesn't it? It was a Tuesday and I was bored.”

“Yeah, that is the opposite of Auctus's type. He doesn't like piercings, tattoos, drugs, meat, plastic surgery—”

“What the fuck do meat and drugs have in common?” Agron demanded. Nasir waved his hand.

“I don't know. I'm not saying I agree with him, I'm just saying that he’s even more organic than most hipsters, and Duro seriously believes that gas station food is better than gourmet French restaurants.”

“I stand by that statement. Gas stations don’t serve slugs and make you pretend it’s fucking delicious.”

“Snails,” Nasir corrected. “And yeah, you and Auctus would not work out.”

Duro frowned and looked at the TV set. He was going through a bit of a dry streak at the moment—sex-wise and relationship-wise. This sounded depressingly similar to his attempts to date that hot bass player he met at the bar downtown who was looking for someone a bit more serious (no offense), and the woman in the pants suit who had taken one look at his various modifications and bit back laughter.

He was an _adult_ , damn it. He had an apartment, and a job, and a car! Agron didn’t even have a car. What was it about him that screamed “immature, not ready for a real relationship”? Maybe it was the curls, he thought with a frown, running a hand through his hair. Everyone always said the curls were _cute_ , not hot or sexy or handsome. But cute wasn’t bad, right? Duro needed to cling to cute. It was the only consistent adjective he could lay claim to, even when most people would have lost the adorable factor three tattoos ago.

“Duro, don’t pout,” Nasir said, sitting closer.

“I’m not _pouting_.”

“You are, and don’t—you know I don’t like to see you sad. C’mon, I’ll find you a boyfriend, okay? Or a girlfriend. Or a friend.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro,” Duro snorted. He pulled Nasir into a half-headlock and turned the TV on again. There was some cheesy soap opera on; he settled on that channel, and swung Nasir’s legs over his lap. “If I can’t find anybody and it looks like I’m going to die alone, will you leave Agron and run away with me?”

Nasir snorted and Duro stuck out his bottom lip.

“Who could resist that face? Yes, absolutely.”

“Good luck feeding yourselves without me,” Agron called from the kitchen. “Jesus Christ, this shit is _vegan_. See that, Nasir, _I am cooking vegan shit for you_. If that isn’t true love, what the fuck is?”

\--0--

Two days later, Duro was supposed to open up the shop where he worked. It wasn’t until he was already in town that he got the text relieving him of duty; with nothing else to do, he found himself wandering down Main Street and ending up outside the studio where Nasir took his tai chi classes twice a week. It was a complete and total coincidence and, as such, would not be at all weird if he went inside and took a quick look at this insanely hot tai chi instructor, right?

He peered in through the window at first, before realizing that that was creepy as hell. It was enough for him to determine that the class was in fact ending, so he slipped inside and tapped Nasir on the shoulder.

“Duro?” Nasir said, puzzled. “What are you… no.”

“Oh _relax_.”

“No, this is weird.”

“I’m here to take you to breakfast! Because I had like half a banana on my way to work and I’m starving."

“Breakfast?” Nasir said, raising his eyebrow.

“Mostly breakfast,” Duro admitted. “A little bit hot tai chi guy.”

“Duro…”

“I just wanted to take a peek, since this guy is apparently so hot that you feel the need to lie to Agron. I won’t even introduce myself, just ogle and leave. Where is he?”

Nasir sighed. He looked around the room, craning his head to see over some cubicles, and pointed. Duro followed his gaze… and stared. He just so happened to look over at the _exact_ _second_ that the instructor tugged off his ratty grey workout shirt and exposed the most magnificent chest he had ever seen, coated deliciously in a thin layer of sweat that made him positively _gleam_. He wasn’t bulky, per se, but that was fine. Duro didn’t give a damn about bulky, when the alternative was that kind of lean, toned muscle.

And when another shirt was (tragically) pulled over his skin, and Duro managed to lift his eyes to the guy’s face instead… well, damn. Jaw, lips, eyes, just-long-enough-to-run-your-fingers-through hair. Duro was done. Absolutely done.

“Yeah, I take back everything I just said,” he breathed. “I’m going to have sex with him. Multiple times. Loudly, and with great enthusiasm.”

“And actually call back in the morning?” an amused voice said. Duro turned with a winning smile.

“Chadara! Lovely as always. How’s Rhaskos?”

“Still bigger than you,” Chadara said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Nasir rolled his eyes. Duro laughed.

“I still think you’re lying to hurt my feelings.”

“I don’t understand why I’m friends with either of you,” Nasir complained. They ignored him.

“You don’t actually think you’re going to get with Auctus, do you?”

“And why not? He hit on Nasir. I’m at _least_ three-quarters as good looking as Nasir and twice as single.”

“Eh,” Chadara shrugged.

“Well, I’m going to go ask him out and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I can point. And laugh.”

“Good luck,” Nasir wished him, grabbing Chadara’s hand.

Duro glared at her, looked back at the instructor, and took a deep breath.

“So, how many people have you killed?” Duro said cheekily as he sauntered over, hands in his pockets. The instructor looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry?”

“Tai chi is a martial art, with? So I’m assuming you’ve found cause to, you know, artistically martial someone at some point.”

Auctus looked him up and down once, and smiled. Okay… smirked. That was not an uncommon response, and not a particularly worrying one. Duro’s unending charm usually managed to win over people’s lingering derision for forearm tattoos. And facial piercings. Lots of facial piercings.

“No, actually, I haven’t.”

“No bloodstained black belt hidden in that bag?”

“Tai chi doesn’t have a belt system. And it’s more of a self-defense exercise than a martial art—at least, it is the way I do it.”

“Disappointing. But hey, I learn something new every day.”

Auctus nodded politely, though his attention seemed to be scattered.

“Are you interested in taking a class?” he asked.

“No, I’m—maybe.”

Duro was about to gesture to Nasir, to explain his purpose there on that day, but his words were cut off immediately, involuntarily, as Auctus bent down to pick up his bag and his t-shirt stretched over the muscles of his back. Good lord, he had a nice back.

 _I want to bite it_ , a tiny voice inside him said, and Duro cleared his throat loudly so it couldn’t be heard.

“When is it?” he asked in an oddly-pitched voice.

“There are six classes a year; I teach four and my boss does three, and unfortunately the summer session is closed, but…”

Duro tugged at his ear awkwardly—it itched—as Auctus rattled off business details, and tried to decide if he was really desperate enough to actually sign up for a class. What if the guy had a policy about dating students? But no, he had been hitting on Nasir, so that was okay. Still, it would be weird… How often could he take Nasir for breakfast before it became obvious that he had an ulterior motive?

“… and are you aware that your ear is bleeding?”

“My what?” Duro asked stupidly. One hand reached up to his tragus, and came away slippery with blood. “Oh, _fuck_ —shit—sorry, it’s new, I must’ve forgotten to, um.” He flushed bright red as blood dripped down his wrist, and Auctus watched the trail with faint disgust on his face. “Sorry—sorry. I’m going to go—fix this—nice meeting you!”

Chadara howled with laughter as soon as she saw him, while Nasir’s face looked torn between concern and exasperation.

“I didn’t even know ears _could_ bleed that much,” he muttered to himself with a sigh. He rummaged around in his bag and produced a towel. “C’mere.”

With a keen sense of humiliation, Duro bent down and allowed Nasir to gently wipe the blood away from the piercing—whimpering against his will when the metal ring was jostled too much. _Now_ Duro remembered why he only had one cartilage piercing on that ear; he tended to roll over onto his right side when he slept. It had taken the first hole forever to heal properly because he kept accidentally applying too much pressure. Add that to the fact that he had forgotten to wash it the day before…

“Nasir, I am so, so sorry, but I have to know—is there pus in it?”

There was a pause.

“Yes.”

Duro glanced over his shoulder, hoping for one last mournful look at the _god_ that he would never, ever get to sleep with, but Auctus was already gone.

\--0--

“Is this still about the tai chi guy?” Castus said, his voice equal parts laughter and bewilderment. Duro rested his chin on his crossed arms with a wistful sigh.

“Well it _was_ … and then briefly about the attractive gender-non-conforming individual I saw in the bookstore who turned out to either not speak English, or _pretended_ not to speak English when I tried to talk to them. Then I walked by tai chi guy on the street and it became about him again.”

“Jesus Christ,” Castus laughed.

Duro glared at him and stood dramatically. He rounded the counter and began sorting the CDs in the discount bin—a pointless job that he and the other two employees of the store both hated, which was thus never done unless they were trying to avoid something or someone else.

“Don’t you have an _actual_ job?” he asked peevishly. “Other than standing around and annoying me?”

“Have you ever heard of a lunch break?” Castus shot back. “And let me guess, it sucks to be on the other end of it for once?”

“Yeah, actually. Go away or I’m going to make my brother beat you up.”

“Ha. Ha. You know, just for that I think I’m not going to tell you.”

Duro perked up like a dog hearing the word ‘treat’; he could feel it happening, but he couldn’t stop it. He whirled around and fixed his eyes on Castus’s smug face.

“Tell me what?”

“Telling you what I would tell you would defeat the purpose of not telling you.”

“Cast _us_ , come on, tell me. Is it gossip? Is it something about boats or alcohol or…” He trailed off and Castus raised his eyebrows. “Hot Arab men?” he suggested weakly.

“ _Seriously_? Is that all you know about me?”

“Do I really need to know more?”

There was a pause, and Castus shrugged.

“Fair point, I did hear this from Shai at a bar, so. Anyway, it turns out that he happens to know your hot tai chi guy, and knows that in addition to doing tai chi—which you are absolutely not capable of doing without horrifically embarrassing yourself—Auctus also owns a health smoothie shop across the street and five doors down, so if you think you can manage to drink a smoothie without horrifically embarrassing yourself…”

He shrugged again, eloquently, closing his eyes for dramatic effect. His eyes immediately snapped open when Duro grabbed him by the shoulders and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek.

“You are a godsend.”

“Are you _drunk_?” Castus demanded.

“Nope. But I think I feel like a lunch break right about now…”

\--0--

It was called Swirls. Duro entered and immediately was hit with a cool breath of air conditioning and the sharp, tangy smell of fresh fruit. Two people in cheery yellow and magenta uniforms were working behind the counter; a tall young man with a modest afro at the register, and a girl with striking green eyes and dark hair mixing the drinks. Duro eyed them both for a moment, before his gaze fell on Auctus, who was doing paperwork at a table in the corner with glasses perched on the end of his nose. Well that was… just doubly unfair.

He went up to the counter first and ordered a drink. Then he pretended to be surprised to see Auctus and strolled up to him with a winning smile.

“Oh, hey!”

The man looked up and stared at him for a moment blankly, and then recognition sparked in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Duro,” he introduced himself, happy that he cared.

“Auctus.”

“Yeah, Nasir told me. So you’re, like, the owner here?”

Jesus Christ why had he thought this would be a good idea.

“Yes.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

“Thanks.”

 _You could help me out a little bit_ , Duro thought desperately, but then he thought that he really didn’t want this conversation to stretch on too long. He needed time and preparation to flirt properly; to do it on a spur of the moment decision always resulted in saying ridiculous things. He cleared his throat and went straight to the meat of the matter.

“So anyway. I was just wondering if you wanted to go—grab coffee, or something equally cliché, sometime?”

Auctus didn’t look surprised… but he didn’t look eager, either, and Duro’s heart sank. The other man looked at him, his eyes flickering over the new (not bleeding) piercing in his ear and the enormous tattoo that took up most of his forearm. It wasn’t a nasty look, but there was definitely bemusement in his face.

“I don’t think we’d be compatible, really, do you?”

“I might surprise you.”

“Sorry,” Auctus said with a shrug, turning back to his papers.

“No problem,” Duro sighed. The barista gave him a sympathetic look. “If nothing else, I’ll be back for another one of these,” he said, shaking his smoothie. Auctus peered at him over his glasses with a half-smile.

“You do that.”                                    

\--0--

Duro cheerfully continued to visit Swirls every few days—for the flirting opportunities and the cold beverages on hot summer days. Once or twice he despaired of catching Auctus’s attention and shifted his focus, but he was promptly shut down. Pietros had a boyfriend already and Diona just seemed amused by his attempts. It was a hard period for his self-esteem.

So naturally that meant it was tattoo time.

His usual tattoo parlor was actually just around the corner from Swirls, a very convenient advantage of living in a small, pedestrian-friendly city. Duro went in early one morning to get started on a new sleeve, wandered around Main Street for a while, and finally ended up in Swirls just around the time when he was allowed to take off the wrappings. That was a total coincidence, really.

“Wow,” Pietros said as soon as he walked in. “ _That’s_ new.”

“Yup,” Duro said with a grin. He glanced around the room; Auctus was at the table in the corner. “Just started working on it today.”

So far, the tattoo was still mostly lines. The design was a large tree, the branches bent back by wind and curling around his upper arm. Bits of the tree, where the line art was meant to look thicker, were colored in, but the rest would have to wait. Duro was impatient; Jean had shown him pictures of what the wind would look like, a dark indigo whirl shot through with pale blue. That would be the best part. But still, it was pretty damn impressive, if you asked him.

“How long did that take?”

“Not long—only about three hours.”

Pietros winced.

“That sounds… painful.”

“Beauty is pain,” Duro said teasingly. Pietros rolled his eyes and asked for Duro’s order. As he made it, Duro slid very casually closer to Auctus’s table. “Hey,” he said cheerfully. Auctus looked up and graced him with a cautious smile.

Very casually and deliberately, Auctus stood up and approached him. He leaned against the bakery counter, his eyes travelling over Duro’s arms. Duro looked down at himself and realized that the black tank top he wore really put all his ink on display; before, he had only been wearing t-shirts around Auctus.

“I hadn’t realized you had so many,” Auctus said honestly.

“It’s an addiction,” he admitted cheerfully. Suddenly, though, he felt self-conscious. He was used to people staring at his tattoos, but… Auctus was different.

“Is that a crown?” he asked. Duro glanced down automatically at the small gold crown on his shoulder. It was one of his first tattoos—he was quite fond of it.

“Oh, yeah. Harry Potter thing.”

“I thought that was a lightning bolt.”

“Lightning’s Harry’s thing. Ron has the Weasley is Our King song. And, you know, the younger brother, awesome siblings, kind of an idiot, but loyal—I could relate.”

“That’s actually cool,” Auctus said, sounding surprised. Duro grinned.

“You thought it was an ‘I got drunk and thought I was awesome’ thing, didn’t you?”

“No,” he insisted, but there was shiftiness in his eyes. “I was curious.” He grinned suddenly, and his fingers alighted on Duro’s forearm. “Come on, though, admit it—this was just to look badass.”

He was referring to Duro’s sword tattoo, which was suddenly speckled in goosebumps because _holy shit Auctus was touching_ him. Duro cleared his throat.

“As a matter of fact, that was only a fun side effect,” he said smugly. He accepted his drink from Pietros, and could have sworn that the barista winked at him. “It’s part of a set; my brother has a shield with a lambda, I have a sword with a double moon. Symbolism, you know.”

“And paw prints because they look badass,” Auctus concluded teasingly. Duro laughed.

“One for my brother, one for my mom.”

“No big red heart?”

“Not yet, no.”

There was a loud cough, and Duro turned to see another customer standing behind him. It was Pietros who had made the sound; he was grinning broadly. Auctus touched Duro’s arm again, and drew him aside.

“Sorry about that,” he said to the customer with a charming smile. Lucky bastard. “Stop me if I’m being annoying,” he said to Duro. He gestured at the small symbol scratched on top of Duro’s left shoulder. “What about that one?”

“Germanic rune. It means heritage, and it was actually the only German symbol I could find that wasn’t connected to any white supremacy group.”

“Well that’s good to know.”

“And the tree is just because it’s beautiful,” Duro added before he could ask, shrugging.

Auctus didn’t respond at first. He reached out to touch Duro’s new tattoo, and then paused at the last moment. His fingers hovered over his skin in a way that kind of stole Duro’s breath away. He looked up and met Auctus’s dark eyes.

“I like it,” Auctus said in a rush.

“Thanks. Do you—are you busy—”

“Yes.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Oh. Okay.” Duro sipped from his smoothie to hide his discomfort, and there was something… gentle in Auctus’s voice when he spoke.

“It’s a busy week. Planning out classes for the next section, you know, and I’ve got family in town, so…”

“Right. Well, then… maybe I’ll see you later?” he asked hopefully.

Auctus flashed an enigmatic grin.

\--0--

"... and he didn't even yell at me this time! Definitely making progress," Duro concluded happily. He and Chadara met up for coffee and gossip twice a month—it was one of his favorite traditions. Chadara was _excellent_ at catty conversations, and it was nice for them to meet up without Nasir sometimes. Duro got to pretend that he actually did have friends that he hadn't somehow met through Agron, and Chadara got to retell old stories that Nasir had already heard a thousand times.

"So you've asked him out—how many times now?"

"Well I didn't actually ask him out this time. But six times total. Every time he's given me an excuse—but, like, an _obvious_ excuse, you know? Something vague and ridiculous, and they've gotten more and more ridiculous as time went on. Except for this week, when he actually seemed sorry." Duro paused for a minute and lost himself in a daydream about Auctus's voice, this time. Not too deep, a bit raspy, earnest. Perfection pure, like everything about him. He sighed dreamily. Chadara's lips were pursed.

"He keeps rejecting you and you just ignore it?"

"Persistence is the key, my dear."

"It sounds... kind of crappy, actually."

For a moment, Duro thought she was joking, but there was an awkward pause following her words that she seemed unwilling to break. She met his gaze defiantly.

"Really? Um—how is that, you figure?"

"I mean, like—sometimes people just aren't going to like you, you know? At least not in that way. Don't get me wrong, I think there's something there based on the little I've seen, but that still doesn't mean you're entitled to a good response, just because it seems he might have a little crush on you. People have other shit going on in their lives, you know? And you might just have to acknowledge that Auctus's shit keeps him from pursuing a relationship with you. It sucks, and you deal with it, and you move on. Honestly, if you were this persistent towards _me_ , I would be really fucking creeped out right now."

Duro stared at her, jaw dropped. It felt like he had been punched in the gut—repeatedly, with brass knuckles. He tried to speak and found that his throat was paper-dry.

"Holy shit," he managed finally. "Holy _shit_. Chadara—like I didn't mean it to be like that. I didn't even _notice_ it was coming out that way."

"Yeah, guys almost never do," she said. Her posture relaxed, and she sipped her iced tea calmly. "Hell, Auctus might not even have noticed from the other end. Just, you know, I was friends with too many Women's Studies majors in college to let that whole thing slide."

"Fuck," Duro moaned. "There could be _so many_ people out there thinking I'm like the world's biggest asshole, and all this time I've thought it was adorable!"

"It's adorable to a point."

"And how the fuck do I know what that point is? Ow!"

Chadara had reached over and rapped her knuckles sharply at his temple. He glared at her and she shook her head in exasperation.

"You think about it, numbskull. Or, better yet— _ask_."

\--0--

The very next day was Duro’s regular trip to Swirls day, so he marched right in and up to Auctus table and started babbling—which, to be fair, was his typical modus operandi anyway.

“Listen, I am really sorry if I’ve been bothering you, okay?” he said in a rush. “I just—I know I can be annoying and over-eager and kind of ridiculous sometimes, and recently someone pointed out that that can be kind of douchebaggy behavior, and you know, if you’ve been sending “back off” symbols, I just haven’t really been picking them up as much as, like, normal people, so… just, like, let me know, and I will, okay?”

There was a long pause, and Duro realized that he had accidentally interrupted Auctus in the middle of his lunch. Auctus chewed his sandwich awkwardly, swallowed, and took an unnecessarily long sip of his sparkling water.

“I haven’t been sending you “back off” signals,” he said finally. “If anything, I’ve been sending mixed signals.”

With that said, he looked down at his plate and continued to eat. Duro hovered for a moment.

“Wait… mixed as in—bad and good?”

A smile twitched at the corner of Auctus’s lips.

“Mm-hm.”

“So, theoretically, if I were to ask you to dinner, there would be a possibility that the response would be positive.”

“Theoretically.”

“Okay.” Duro was beaming; he couldn’t help it. “Okay, so, do you—want to go to dinner with me?”

\--0--

The night of The Date, Duro found out that his relaxed personality was a filthy, filthy lie, and proceeded to have a minor freak out. Hamilcar—the traitor—had abandoned him for a fucking movie (although Duro expected karma to deal with that swiftly, given that his roommate had left his keys and wallet on the front table). Duro stared at his closet for a full twenty minutes before giving in and calling his brother.

“What do I wear to look respectable?” he demanded. There was a moment of silence on the other end.

“Wrong number, bro. Nasir’s right here—I’ll put him on.”

“I called you, jackass, not Nasir. He’s too respectable. My date with Auctus is tonight, and Nasir would make me wear a suit, and if I do that it will be really fucking obvious that I don’t know what I’m doing. I need like a balance between ‘yes I am a mature adult’ and ‘responsibility is boring.’”

“Okay…” Agron said slowly as Duro flipped impatiently through hangers. “Um. Red’s a good color on you, I think. Do you have any plain red shirts?”

The only ones in his closet were long-sleeved. Duro went over to the bureau and started rotting through t-shirts. One of these days he should really learn the art of folding clothes.

“Yeah, I’ve got something red.”

“What kind of red? Plain, crimson, maroon, what?”

“I dunno. Crimson, I think.”

“Nah, crimson’s too bright.”

“It’s not bright, it’s dark.”

“Then that’s maroon, you fucking idiot—”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve only got like thirty minutes.”

“Okay, okay. Wear the maroon shirt and that black vest that Nasir likes.” There was laughter on the other end, and Duro grinned to himself.

“Damn it Nasir, our secret love affair was supposed to be secret!” he yelled. Agron ignored him.

“And then, like, the least-holey pair of shorts you own.”

There was a sudden squawk, and Duro could only imagine that Nasir tackled Agron and stole the phone from him, because there was an oof and then suddenly Nasir was speaking very loudly in Duro’s ear.

“Do not wear shorts, under any circumstances. Oh my god, I swear sometimes you two are dumb as hell. If the restaurant has tablecloths, you wear full pants, Duro.”

Duro glanced guiltily at the corner of his closet. There was a pile there of winter/fall clothes that… well, he kind of hadn’t put in the laundry for a while. As in, several months. Even the clothes that were technically clean were starting to gather dust. He flipped through the hangers again.

“I have cargo pants?”

Nasir sighed heavily.

“I really don’t understand you two—Lugo and Hamilcar and Donar all manage to get themselves decent wardrobes despite being single men, you know, and they have the added disadvantage of being straight.”

“Are we _sure_ about Lugo?” Duro repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Yes.” There was a pause. “We’re pretty sure.”

“Wear the cargo pants,” Agron said, taking the phone back from Nasir. “You need pockets—don’t forget your wallet, chapstick, mints, checkbook, condom, ep—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Duro grumbled, stuffing his pockets. This had been Agron’s same mantra since Duro’s first date in high school. He had wished many times that man-purses would be in fashion, but alas it had never worked out. “But seriously, I’m not going to need a condom—”

“Why does he need a _checkbook_?” Nasir demanded in the background. Duro put the phone on speaker and tugged the new shirt over his head. He did look good in red, he thought smugly, and that was even before the vest. But still, looking good didn’t mean he was going to get some.

“—because, you know, first date, and also my apartment is a mess right now and I am so not taking anyone back here—”

“Seriously, where the hell could they possibly go that Duro would need to write a check? How much property do you think he’s going to be breaking tonight?”

“What was the fucking point of being a Boy Scout if you’re not going to be prepared?” Agron demanded.

“Jesus Christ,” Duro said, rolling his eyes. Finally, Hamilcar knocked on the door, and he hopped over to answer it while tugging on his boots. “There was more to the Boy Scouts than that one fucking slogan, you know.” He swiped Hamilcar’s wallet and keys off the table, and flung open the door carelessly. “About time, asshole.”

“Um. We said 6:15, didn’t we?”

Duro froze in the act of offering his roommate’s wallet to someone who was… decidedly not his roommate. Auctus stared back at him, a mixture of confusion and irritation on his gorgeous face, and Duro swore he could hear cruel, vindictive laughter echoing from somewhere.

“I… thought we said 6:30,” he said, the words stumbling out of his mouth.

“Oh come on, man, the Boy Scouts were all about sexual preparedness,” Agron’s voice said, coming out extremely loud over the speaker. Duro dropped the keys and the wallet in his haste to turn off the phone.

“I’ll call you back,” he hissed.

“Wh—”

“ _Later_.” He shoved his phone in his pocket and opened the door wider—and then, remembering that his apartment was a mess, shuffled out into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him. Auctus was staring at him, and he smiled feebly. “Hi. Hi, I—I was not talking to you, I am so sorry about that, my roommate—and then my brother—hi.”

To his relief, Auctus laughed. He glanced at the ground, and then looked at Duro from beneath his brow and holy _shit_ that was attractive.

“Hi. Have you ever done anything normally, in your entire life?”

“I made out with a guy in a closet once, and the door was opened at an inopportune moment and that was how I came out. Does that count?”

“I don’t think being a living embodiment of a cliché pun counts.”

“Oh. Then no.”

There was a pause and Auctus coughed.

“So do you need another minute to get ready, or…?”

“Oh, no, let’s—yeah, let’s go.  Did you have any place in mind?” Duro asked as they left the building.

“Yeah, I was thinking John and Victoria’s, two blocks over? They do vegan stuff, but it’s not all… you know, _obvious_. I’ve taken people there who eat meat and they’ve enjoyed it.”

Well that was… encouraging. Duro agreed readily enough, and Auctus led him to the restaurant. It was a cozy little place decorated almost entirely in green. The waitress brought them a basket of bread and Duro was left to apprehensively scan the menu. There were a lot of words he didn’t understand and just about one that he did—burrito. A sweet potato burrito with some kind of funky tomato sauce, yes, but hey, it was something. They ordered, the waitress grinned cheerfully… and then Auctus and Duro were alone. Having a conversation. _On a date_.

“So, you’re like.” Duro waved his hand expressively. “Actually into this kind of stuff. It’s not a fad or anything.”

Belatedly, he realized that this might not be the greatest thing ever to say, but luckily Auctus only laughed.

“No, it’s not a fad. My dad had a health scare when I was in college, and I decided to cut out red meat and smoking… then pork, because I didn’t like pork anyway, and then my roommate had a dairy allergy so I basically stopped keeping any in the room, and at that point I was close enough anyway, so why not? It’s—comforting,” he shrugged. “Having that kind of control over something, even if that something is myself, but I didn’t want it to get to _denial_ levels, you know? I started coming up with different drink recipes, and then.” He spread his hands. “Life happened.”

“That’s pretty awesome. And—funny.”

“Funny?” Auctus asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Funny because it’s almost the exact same rationale I’ve heard for people inking all over and piercing everything that can be pierced.”

“Huh.” Auctus cupped his chin in his hand and looked very fixedly at Duro—it was disconcerting and flattering, and Duro blushed. “So when did you first get into… all this?”

The conversation flowed naturally and easily for a while, until the waitress returned with their meals and Duro was again faced with the prospect of actually eating vegan food. He poked at his burrito with a fork warily. It was mushy… and it smelled weird. He cut off a bite carefully and pretended not to see the way that Auctus bit his lip and tried not to laugh.

Then he took a bite and pretended not to choke.

“What do you think?” Auctus asked, amused.

“It’s—it’s interesting all right,” he managed to say. He took another bite and—really, those vegetables did _not_ go together—Auctus laughed out loud. “Okay. Honestly, this is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted,” Duro admitted.

“I figured,” Auctus grinned. “Has anyone ever told you that your face is an open book?”

“All the time—but it’s a pretty book and that’s what counts,” he said with a winning smile. He reached for the basket of pita, which really wasn’t all that bad. “This is good; it wouldn’t be the first time I made a meal out of bread.”

“No, here. My meal is less blatantly vegan. Try it.”

Auctus pushed the plate towards him, and Duro considered it warily. It was some kind of noodle dish. The noodles looked clear, which was weird, and there were a lot of unfamiliar vegetables, but everything was doused in a sauce dark enough to disguise it. It smelled good, at least. He poked it cautiously with his fork.

“What is it?”

“Try it and I’ll tell you,” Auctus said with a grin as he popped a forkful of sweet potato in his mouth.

“That’s not at all ominous.”

Auctus shrugged, uncaring, and Duro scooped up some noodles and something that looked vaguely like a snow pea. He screwed his eyes shut and made an exaggerated face as he ate, which made Auctus laugh—or at least snort, which was pretty much the same thing. When he tasted it though, he was pleasantly surprised. It was savory and flavorful, funky transparent noodles aside.

“This is actually really awesome!”

“Mm hm,” Auctus said with a smile. He pushed the plate closer and took the rest of the disgust-burrito for himself. “Yeah, with a lot of their stuff it’s very hit or miss, but I’ve always liked Thai noodles.

Duro took another bite—there was some kind of crunchy thing in there, too, which was interesting—and barely remembered to swallow before talking. Nasir was always giving him and Agron hell about their table manners, and this was not a time to forget those lectures.

“What’s in it?” he asked finally.

“It’s Thai noodles with snow peas, water chestnuts, bean sprouts and peppers in a peanut sauce.”

Mother _fucker_.

Duro swallowed the third bite, which he probably shouldn’t have, but still—table manners. Very calmly, he started to pat down his pockets. The tell-tale burning sensation was just beginning to tickle his throat when he found the Epi-pen in the last pocket he checked. It had been a while since he had had to do this, so he fumbled a bit, but force of habit led his arm to swing at just the right angle as he jammed the needle into his thigh.

Auctus looked at him for a moment, confused, then his eyes widened.

“Oh shit, are you allergic?” he asked, horrified.

“Yeah,” Duro said glumly, massaging his skin mechanically.

“Shit, I am so sorry! I should have told you what was in it—what the hell was I thinking?”

“Not your fault,” Duro said, shaking his head. “I am a grown-ass man. I should be able to keep track of my own food.”

He took another sip of water and then a deep breath. So far so good. The last time he had accidentally eaten peanuts, it had taken too long to find the Epi-pen and his throat had doubled in size. Not the best birthday ever.

“Do you need to go to the hospital or something?” Auctus asked anxiously.

Duro thought about his tiny, tiny bank account, and mentally compared the risks.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am fairly close to positive.”

“Oh fuck. We should—we should go.”

“No, no, no,” Duro said, unable to conceal his disappointment. Damn it, he had barely been lucky enough to snag _one_ date; he wasn’t about to end it early. “I’m having a good time!”

“What you’re _having_ is an _allergic reaction_.”

Duro couldn’t fight that, and just sat there glumly as Auctus asked for the check. He insisted on paying, of course, and they headed for the door. He was cheered somewhat by the fact that Auctus’s hand hovered at his back. Even if it was just because he was worried that Duro would collapse, at least he _cared_ right?

“Can we just—grab dessert first?” he wheedled.

“Dessert, then hospital?” Auctus asked, deadpan.

“Sure, whatever. Come on, the best ice cream place in the world is two doors down, they have plenty of substitution options and they’re very careful with their allergens.” Auctus glanced at him and Duro leaned closer and bumped their shoulders together playfully. “It took me almost three months to get to this night—I don’t want it to end so quickly.”

Auctus sighed.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too fucking cute?” he asked, and Duro’s heart did backflips. “That look is _lethal_.”

Auctus’s hand tightened definitively around Duro’s waist, and Duro could have _skipped_ as they walked into the ice cream place. He ordered his favorite chocolate mint fudge on a cone, and Auctus ordered a cup of pistachio with strawberry sauce—which, as Duro took care to inform him, was fucking weird.

“It’s delicious!”

“It’s bizarre.”

“You’re bizarre.”

“You’re _twelve_ , apparently.”

Auctus looked away and smiled to himself, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in an entirely unfair way. They wandered down the street aimlessly for a minute, and before they had really settled on a destination they found themselves sitting on a bench by the pond. Duro hesitated for half a second, and then leaned gently against Auctus’s shoulder.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you say yes this time?”

“I admired your persistence,” Auctus grinned. “I really did. And… I don’t know. You _care_. So much, and so obviously, and that’s honestly not something I’m used to or deal well with. At first I didn’t know how to react, but then I got used to you and…” He trailed off and quirked his head, looking at Duro thoughtfully. “Are you allergic to all nuts, or just peanuts—which, yes I am aware, are technically a legume?”

“Just peanuts,” Duro said quizzically. “Why?”

And then Auctus kissed him. His lips were cold, and soft, and tasted like strawberries. Duro kissed back, lifting one hand to cup Auctus’s cheek. He took a deep breath and reveled in the absolute _perfection_ of this moment.

Auctus broke away and touched their foreheads together, which almost made Duro _melt_.

“You have a tongue piercing,” he said breathlessly.

“A tiny one, yeah.”

“I never noticed before.” He began to laugh. “Fucking hell, what am I getting into?”

“Something awesome, I’m sure,” Duro said with a grin, and he pulled him close again.


End file.
